Borra Week 2015
by kaithelonechampion
Summary: August 22-28 2015 is Borra Week!
1. Day 1 - Rock 'n Roll

_Summary: Bolin is on leave for a couple of nights and he needs to cut loose. Maybe things will get a bit rocky!_

* * *

She would be waiting for him at the train station. He knew it, with his brother and Asami too. They'd all be there, they'd said so in their last letter. He'd waited for months to finally get his leave for a few days and now that he was in his seat, he couldn't believe it! Finally away from waking up at the crack of dawn - if he'd slept at all - finally away from the drills given from and to him, finally away from the battlefied. But best of all, he'd get to _see_ their faces, talk to them and _hear_ their voices. If he was lucky, and he was, he might get to take a picture or two, and bring those back to replace the outdated ones he kept in his rucksack. Needless to say, Bolin was excited.

The simple act of getting to the proper sation had been a drag to say the least. A ride in an army satomobile, a hike through some forest - or maybe it was a swamp - to end with a bus ride where he nearly missed his stop trying to stay awake. Then he had to deal with the damn office of travels. Who would've thought it could take up to three passports - one indicating his status as one of Kuvira's soldiers, one for his status as citizen of Republic City and a third one from Earth Kingdom - to get from some backwater Earth Kingdom camp to Republic City?

The train ride hadn't been such a cakewalk either. It was several days from his point of departure to his destination. Which was why he could only stay a coulple of days - or why he got to come at all if he wanted to look at it from an optimistic point of view - any other camp would've been too far for regular leave. Not only was the ride long, each cart was jam packed of travellers; luckily for him, his cart was occupied by soldiers so he didn't have to worry about someone stealing his stuff. Apart from the time their train got jumped some time after its second stop. Some militia who thought they could handle almost an entire battalion of trained soldier desperately wanting to get home. _Pfft as if_ , he thought to himself, bitting his lower lip .

At this very moment though, Bolin was resting his head against the window, his entire body sore and tired from the trip. When they crossed the borders a few ways back, he had perked up somewhat, but he knew better than to tire himself the entire way home by fidgeting and just being overly happy. So he took a nap.

He jerked awake when the train suddenly stopped, nearly sending him flying off his seat. He got up, glancing out the window quickly. Eyebrows furrowed in confusion, he walked towards the locomotive. This was why he hated being one of the ranking officers, but in all honesty he would have went anyway. He noticed the train hadn't entirely stopped when he stepped outside, but its speed had considerably been reduced. He made his way to his destination and talked with the crew. After a quick explanation that the furnace had cracked and wasn't heating things fast enough, Bolin took some time to think about things.

"Damn," he muttered, taking off his jacket.

They were standing at the railway station with other families and friends, all waiting for the arrival of some troops. The three of them had been sitting on a bench for the majority of the afternoon, knowing only that the train was supposed to arrive today. This very morning, actually; the train had been late and they couldn't do anything about it but _wait_. At least, they figured, it was a nice day and Bolin wouldn't be greeted by thunderclouds and rain.

The other people had some interesting things to say, at least. Many of them had wanted to talk with Team Avatar, every member there famous in their own right. Conversations and small games kept them from the boredom and anxiety of waiting, for the most part.

All three felt at least some degree of anxiety at the prospect of seeing Bolin. For Mako, it was the first time the brothers had been separated for more than a day or two's time, and even the more-than-frequent letters he sent and received couldn't calm down his mother henning instincts; pure and simple he had hated being apart from Bolin.

Asami, for her part, had been mostly happy for Bolin. The letters she received and sent could usually be boiled down to banter and recounting of recent events on their part. She had missed her best friend and ex-assistant - which was sometimes what she called him in her letters to tease him - and couldn't wait to hang out with him again.

Korra had also missed Bolin, but she deduced after a while that her sentiment was different than her friends'. The letters only made her want to talk to him more, to see him again. In written form it was so easy; the two told each other funny or important things happening, they doodled in the margins and even sometimes incluided some kind of game after the letter. Like the others, she got to see Bolin's handwriting get exponentially better, and she found it made her truly happy to be part of that experience. She longed to see him, to hang out and have fun, to prank Mako. She had _missed_ Bolin.

They looked up from whatever they were doing when someone shouted. Standing up, they saw in the distance the train approaching, leaving behind it the deserts and plains of the Earth Kingdom. It made a black stream of smoke as it came closer, burning some more coal for the final hundreds of meters.

Around them people approached the platform, crowding it excessively. Although they were packed like sardines the station was deathly quiet, everyone waiting to see if their loved one would be stepping off the train. The beat up green and grey locomotive slowed down in preparation to make its final stop. The last thirty meters or so took agonizingly long, the breaks screeching loudly.

Finally, the train stopped and for a moment everyone held their breath. The doors creaked open, people from all over the Earth Kingdom all but pouring out, shouting names of people - friends, families or sweethearts - and the people already there standing on the tip of their feet, shouting more names and looking around. This was it, the three thought. The anticipation was killing them as they waited, and waited. Slowly, the number of people dwindled, a few families leaving at a time. Still no sight of Bolin.

"Where is he?" Mako muttered under his breath, his voice shaky from ill conceiled worry.

"He'll be there," Asami replied, putting a hand on his shoulder, probably stopping him from running into the crowd.

Korra hoped she was right. Not that she doubted Bolin, but life sometimes had a knack for getting in the way. She looked around, noticing only a few people were left besides them; mostly some people still waiting and some waiting to board the next train, she figured.

The few remaining soldiers exited the train, two of them waiting by the door. One was carrying an extra coat that looked too big for him or his friend. They were talking animatedly, one foot still on the step from the train. She looked at Mako and Asami, an eyebrow raised incredulously. A shrug and a shake of a head was her answer.

"Thanks for holding onto my jacket!" said Bolin's voice from inside, muffled by the cart.

Mako and Korra dashed forward, with Asami making her way there a bit more calmly, but esctatic nonetheless. They stopped a few steps from the two soldiers, waiting for Bolin to make his way out.

The door to the washroom inside slid open, revealing their friend. He stepped out, onto the platform, his back straight and his strides purposeful. Korra couldn't deny she was somewhat disappointed he wasn't in full uniform with his hair done and everything; instead he was wearing his undershirt, which was singed at places and he was covered in dark smudges, his was was a mess too. He looked up at them, his eyes lighting up at the sight of his friends. Immediately his stance loosened; his back arched slightly in his confident and open posture, he no longer stood on his heels but rather on the balls of his feet and his hands relaxed. Though in Korra's opinion the biggest change had been in his face. He lost his polite smile to his usual goofy grin, his eyebrows arching happily over his peridot-emerald eyes that were now shining instead of guarded.

He made quick work of the remaining few feet, opening his hands for a hug that was instantly taken by Mako.

"'S good to see you bro," Bolin said into his brother's shoulder.

"They better be taking care of you over there," Mako replied, mother-henning already.

Bolin chuckled, taking a small step back. "You better not be overworking yourself again. At least tell me you don't sleep under your desk anymore?"

Now it was Mako's turn to chuckle. He shook his head. "No, none of that, I swear."

He glanced over his brother's shoulder to get a look at the rest of his welcoming party. He smiled, taking a couple of steps around Mako, opening his arms again. He hugged Asami first, careful not to stain her outfit - though she didn't seem to care much and hugged him tightly - letting her ruffle his hair like she did sometimes.

"It's good to finally see you," she told him, smiling.

"Same here," he breathed out, giving a small nod.

He didn't have time to say anything else; Korra cut his airflow with a bear hug, like the ones he used to give. Only, she didn't lift him off the ground. He hugged her back, with just as much fervor, lifting _her_ off the ground.

"I missed you," Korra breathed out after a while.

He put her down. "Missed you too."

She punched his shoulder lightly. "I can't believe it! It's the first time we see each other in forever and you don't even dress up! Look at you!" she teased, poking at the singed spots on him, and ruffling his hair further. He let her, chuckling quietly.

"Sorry. Furnace broke down, I was the only one able to heat up the coal," he started to explain and went on to retell the entire trip.

The airbending family had been ecstatic to see him again. Meelo had reclaimed his place on Bolin's shoulders briefly before he was tackled into a hug by Ikki, Kai and an embarrassed Jinora. The first thing he'd done afterwards was picking up Kai, commenting on how much he'd grown. She couldn't help the pang of jealousy; picking _her_ up wasn't the first thing he did when he saw her. She squashed it down guiltily and brought him under their favourite moon peach tree. There they talked and ate, killing the last few hours of the afternoon before supper.

Pema had made an enormous meal, consisting mostly of food Bolin liked, with many dumplings and southern water tribe food. He'd frozen momentarily at the sight of so much food - and the prospect of _choosing_ what he was going to eat for once - and jolingly asked Mako what he should start with. It worked, and he ate his small meal quietly to the confusion of the others. He gave many thanks for the amazing food the sat there until everyone else was also done.

Korra made the effort - although he'd been quieter, it wasn't such an arduous task - to strike up a conversation with him. Her first question was about army food.

"It's not that bad," he shrugged. "It's just not three stars-level. Every meal has all the nutrients you need and it's free."

"Speaking of free food," she said, snapping her fingers as she remembered something. "There's this place downtown I think you'd like, it's a hotspot for music, dancing and _fun_!"

"I don't get how that has to do with free food?" he replied, puzzled.

"Food'll be on me!" She nudged his shoulder. "'S the least I can do to welcome you back!"

"I guess," he sais hesitantly. He'd really wanted to just relax, but she seemed so into it he couldn't bring himself to say no.

"Alright! I'll swing by your room later to pick you up," she explained as she stood to help with the dishes.

There was a knock and the door slid open. In Korra stepped, wearing not her usual water tribe clothing but her outfit for the night: dark brown pants that ended in knee high boots, a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled covered by a burgundy waistcoat. Bolin took one look and had to sit down.

"I thought this was casual," he said from the bed. He'd been wearing his "casual" outfight which consisted of trousers and a dress shirt.

"It is," she deadpanned. "We'll be dancing."

She gave him a once over, pulling him onto his feet. She went to his bag and started rummaging. Obviously not finding what she'd been looking for, she sighed and went to his closet. She pulled out a pair of dancing shoes and suspenders.

"Here," she said, thrusting the items in his hands. "Belt off, shoes off and put these on instead."

He did as she instructed, deciding to roll his sleeves to match her, to her approval. He took his travel mirror from his pack and looked at himself. He snapped the suspenders self-consciously, wondering why they looked like waiters that had just finished their shifts. Maybe it was a new trend, he told himself, after all they change every few months - sometimes weeks - and he was gone for almost two years _in the army_.

"So I take it this is a jazz place?" he asked, noticing her boots had similar soles to his.

"You'll see," she avoided answering, a playful smile on her face. "Now let's go! We'll be late!" she said, practically pushing him towards his door, out the building and onto the ferry.

They got stopped several times on their way to their destination - Bolin heard Korra call it a mix between a tavern and a dancing hall, a club. It was to be expected, being who they were, but it served to irk Korra somewhat and unsettle Bolin. He still enjoyed the attention, but the questions didn't always sit right with him.

Despite their multiple stops, both voluntarily and not - Korra had insisted on making him taste a desert from a specific vendor on their way - the duo arrived in downtown Republic City. Where the party always was, Bolin remembered Shady Shin telling him as a way to memorize the layout of the city.

The tall buildings made way for the shorter, stouter ones that housed drinks ranging from cactus juice to absinthe, amongsg other things. A few dance halls popped up here and there, but Korra bypassed them all, leading Bolin by the hand towards a specific one he couldn't yet identify.

He noticed that, as they approached, a pecular sound could be heard. Korra had started humming along pleasantly, slowing her step to a leisurely stroll that allowed Bolin to drink in the sounds and the sights and the smells of his native city. Spirits he'd missed this, _normal noise_ , not just drills or the sound of pounding feet or that of mechas roving around or even fighting.

The building they were heading for was the loudest on the street, yet somehow managed to be the least obnoxious. The building itself was plain, the polar opposite of the surrounding flamboyant establishments, making it ironically stand out. Many satomobiles were parked in front of it, some people conversing while leaning against them.

Korra pulled open the door, quickening the tempo of her steps to match the song's. The music was what threw Bolin in for a loop the most. The beat was quick - like the jazz or rockabilly he used to listen to - but the music ressembled the blues and some country. It was an odd mix that made him sway to its melody. He couldn't wait to dance with Korra.

They made their way to the edge of the dance floor. He could feel thr beat in his bone and the bass in his gut, but seeing the other dancers made him hesitate. He recognized the moves from swing dancing, but was a bit reluctant to join in. Until he felt Korra's hand gently tug on his own.

"Ready?" She asked, her eyes flitting here and there before landing on him. She was smiling and he could detect the same vibe he felt when they were getting in sync in the arena.

He sighed, but grinned back. "Let's do this," he answered, squeezing her hand a bit.

Taking his invitation, she led him onto the floor. She deftly placed her left hand in his right one, moving her right one to his hip, letting him settle his left hand on her shoulder. As the previous song ended and was replaced by an easy beat, the two swayed in rythm. Everybody waited for the song to be put on. After a few clicks and whirrs, the beat suddenly stopped, replaced by energetic drumming and a funky bass. Some guitars started playing, adding to the melody.

" _Been workin' so hard, I'm punchin' my card_ ," came the singer's voice.

Korra took a step forward, gently pushing him backwards to get started. She led him into the dance, at the beginning with easy steps, adding a twirl every so often.

He saw other couples dancing; the steps they were taking or the _manoeuvres_ they made. It wasn't long before he wanted to do the same and cut loose. Bolin caught her staring at him, her cheeks starting to flush a bit.

"What?" she asked over the music.

"What do you think we show them how it's done?"

She nodded once, pushing herself off a bit. They bent their legs, swing them at the knees in time with the music. Their free hands waving and snapping to the beat energetically. Standing back up at the pause in the song, he grabbed her by the hips, winked and lifted her above his head. He swung her back down, between his legs, then, springing herself back up she told him to bend over.

Korra pushed his head down and rolled on his back, doing a side flip, taking his left hand in her right one as she did so. They got back into doing small steps, throwing more elaborate flips and jumps in for fun.

" _Loose, footloose! Kick off your sunday shoes_!" The singer belted out, his voice thick, as if daring them to do even more.

"Turn around," he ordered, smiling.

She did, and saw his hands between her legs. Smirking, she bent down to grab them, and on the crescendo of the final chorus Bolin flipped. He held onto one of her hands and when she landed he twirled her and they ended together. His arm wrapped around her shoulder, her arm around his waist; their heaving chests barely touching with each gasp of breath; almost nose to nose, they could see the heat in the other's eyes.

"Uh, K-" he was cut off by her lips gently pecking the corner of his mouth.

"I _missed_ you," she breathed out. "Waddya say we get outta here?"

He smiled, an eyebrow raised. "One more?" He asked.

She laughed, but pulled his head down to kiss him. He made a surprised noise, but gladly kissed her back.

"That... Was amazing," he said, flustered but happy. "But I meant dancing."


	2. Day 2 - Laundry Day

**DevArt to see the unrelated post on DevArt: art/Borra-Week-2015-Day-2-Laundry-Day-554117843?ga_submit-new=10%253A1439740741**

 _Summary: Korra wakes up and puts on her new morning outfit!_

She woke up, warm and comfortable. She'd been awoken by the smell of breakfast wafting in through the window. Pulling off the covers and getting out of bed, she noticed her usual night time attire in a bundle on the floor. She looked down, seeing she was wearing only her bindings. Though she'd been wearing less, the bed had been really warm and she didn't feel the usual morning chill when she stalked around the bedroom for something to wear.

She grabbed the shirt on the floor at the foot of the bed. A big brown vest made of comfortable material. _Finders keepers_ , she told herself, shrugging it on. It was too big - like the rest of her pyjamas - and the sleeves dropped past her hands. She was just happy it covered her ass.

Sliding the door open, she found herself momentarily disoriented, not being quite awake yet. She ambled down the hallway, towards the noises and smells of food and people. Her bare feet made quiet little thumps as she made her way closer.

Once there, Korra opened the door, marched to the spot between Asami and Bolin and plopped down on the pillow. Before anyone had time to say hi, she grabbed the nearest cup of coffee - Mako's, she had to lean over Bolin to get it - and downed it. She poured herself another one, sipped a bit and put it down in front of her plate.

Her plate was quickly filled. She took oatmeal, yogurt and fruits and her - and Bolin's - favourite, tatter tots. Pema rarely made them, because according to Tenzin "Air Nomads did not eat fried food!" but he still snuck a couple onto his plate. Like any sane being, in Korra's opinion.

Korra wasted no time in burying her potatoes with salt and pepper. She hadn't eaten tatter tots in months and she needed greasy food right _now_. She shovelled a first forkful of them, glancing at the others' plates. Asami's plate ressembled her own, with less potatoes and tea instead of coffee; Bolin had oatmeal with fruit and coffee, black. She slowed her chewing, inspecting the plate. She'd at least expected to see traces of grease and salt, but it was clean. Maybe he'd been waiting for her? She moved on to Mako's plate, or bowl as he was eating cereal, and he was pouring himself a new cup of coffee.

"Wait, since when do _you_ ," she pointed her fork, with a potato still on it, at Bolin. "Take your coffee _black_? And since when do you even take coffee?"

Taking a sip, he said, "we almost never have cream, or sugar in the camps." He shrugged. "Had to find a way to stay awake."

She nodded, almost despondently, and the next few minutes were spent in silence. She wondered what else had changed with Bolin; her eyes quickly flitted to his jaw and cheeks. Barely noticeable was the beginning of a five o'flock shadow; she knew he shaved before, but actually seeing him with hair shocked her a bit. Though it reminded her of something.

"Hey!" She slapped Bolin's shoulder. "Before you leave, we want to see you all dressed up in your uniform!"

"Fine, fine," he sighed dramatically. "If it's what the fans want, but I'll have to do some cleaning up first." He scratched his cheek.

She didn't expect to find him hours later in the laundry room. Well, yes, as a matter of fact she did, but not like this. Recently, some Future Industries clothe-washers had been "donated" to Air Temple. Although they were efficient, the machines were, in Korra's own words, "noisy as fuck." One might compare them to gunfire.

Obviously she'd read Bolin's letters. They written about everything and nothing. One thing that never came up - partially as a desire to keep their letters light hearted - was the _darker_ aspects of their duties. She should've known, though, considering his job's description. But she couldn't imagine Bolin like that.

Which was why she hadn't expected to come in, the machine done washing - some water and soap had leaked onto the floor, soaking anything nearby - the floors and parts of the walls cracked and burnt, and Bolin in his underwear curled in a foetal position in the corner. His eyes staring at nothing, his mouth set in a small pout and his hair a complete mess. He looked like a glass doll on its way to the ground; not yet broken but you know it's coming.

She slowly made her way to him, keeping in his line of sight, not making any sounds or sudden movements. He didn't respond, or even take notice that she was there - or maybe he had, but his eyes betrayed nothing. So she inched forward. she kept her hands up. She looked straigt at him. Closer, and closer. She reached out. Touched his arm. He jerked away, pushing himself into the corner, his eyes darkening a bit but just as lifeless. The usual bright pools had been drained of light. She tried again, whispering his name, telling it was just her. She inched forward. she kept her hands up. She looked straigt at him. Closer, and closer. She reached out. Touched his arm. Maybe it he had understood her - or maybe it was the fact that he couldn't get anymore in to the corner - but he didn't thrash away this time, he let himself be hugged by her. After much flinching and her managing to call Asami - who then called Mako, who then called Tenzin and Kya - Korra had managed to get Bolin out of the corner, kind of. He sobbed, hoarse sounds coming out his mouth, ugly tears marking his cheeks. He kept muttering things under his breath. Things Korra was glad only she could understand.

"Shh, it'll be okay, shhh," she murmured in his ear, trying to ground him. "Bo, Bo listen alright? Talk to me, please?"

She had to repeat multiple times for him to finally say something else than his name and soldier number. He sniffed.

"I didn't want to," he whispered, his voice cracking.

 _Alright_ , she thought, _we're getting somewhere_. "Can I ask what, Bo?" she asked, continuing the conversation.

He shook his head, clamping his mouth shut. He kept shaking his head, rocking himself anxiously. He brought his hands to his chest, scratching his knuckles viciously.

"Make them go away," he pleaded. "I don't want to see them again..."

Confused, she looked at the others, knowing it wasn't what Bo had meant, but that it would probably help not to crowd him. Kya noticed first, and led Tenzin and Asami - Mako wouldn't hear a word of it, instead sitting by the door looking absolutely mortified. Korra caught her telling Asami to go get Bumi.

"There, there Bo, see? Their gone, now," she whispered to them.

"They'll just be back tonight," he replied, still scratcching his knuckles.

Korra put a hand on his, gently putting a stop to him mutilating his hands. It hurt to see shecouldn't do anything to help; was this how they felt when she'd been poisoned? She felt like crying in frustration; she had all this power and she couldn't do a single concrete thing to help. She whispered grounding things into his ear.

Then Bumi came in. He walked straight to them, his long strides somehow silent against the floor. He knelt infront of Bolin, getting his attention. He took Bolin's hand.

"Squeeze," he ordered gently, in the same waya doctor orders a patient.

Weakly, Bolin gave a small squeeze.

"Squeeze a bit harder."

He did, his hand trembling.

"This," he said, clutching Bolin's hand. "Is real."

Bolin nodded jerkily.

"Now, boy, tell me where y'are."

Bolin stayed silent, his mouth opening. Eventually, he chattered, "Laundry room."

"Good," Bumi said, squeezing his hand gently. "Tell me, what does the laundry room look like?"

Bolin looked up, genuine confusion shining through the otherwise lifeless eyes. He glanced around briefly, before offering a curt summary of what was in the room. Bumi nodded, asking similar questions, ranging from what did their old apartment look like to what his favourite food was. Eventually, Bolin calmed down enough to fall asleep. Or unconscious.

"What the hell was that," Mako asked, his voice barely a whisper. What in Raava's name had they done to his Bolin?

"PTSD," Bumi said, helping Korra put some towels under Bolin's head. "Dad here probably has it too. And you; heckwith the shit that's happened these past years I wouldn't be surprised if every damn citizen in Republic City has it," he said angry and disgusted. Bolin was just a kid, and Bumi could nary guess what he'd seen during his time in Kuvira's army. Right then he decided he didn't much like her, sending kids out to fight her battles.

"Guess we'll have something to tal kabout later..?" Korra asked, unsure if they even _could_ talk about to Bolin.

"We'll have to," Bumi replied.


	3. Day 3 - Say You Will

DISCLAIMER FOR SWEARING AND THEMES

Summary: Korra helps Bo deal with the aftermath of the previous day, though he does have a request for her.

they'd gotten him to the bed in his room - incidently also the room she woke up in the day before, and where she stole his shirt - where he'd been for all of ten minites before finding a way to get under the bed and sleep _there_ instead.

Now the rest of the Krew were sitting on the floor, occupying themselves - well, Asami was, Korra and Mako were worrying - as they waited for Bolin to wake up. At every little noise or movement they'd freeze, staring at him. It was the only time Korra had seen him sleep and wear a look of unease; more like he'd been knocked out rather than resting. It made her kind of sick.

All she could do was sit there and wait; he probably wouldn't talk - or if he did, not about what the hell was happening - when he woke up. Would he still be in his trance by then? She wondered if he'd want to eat or drink?

 _Is this what he felt like when I was poisoned?_ She asked herself. More importantly, what kind of shit did he go through to be triggered like that?

"What the fuck," she muttered, eyeing his sleeping form. The swear briefly jerked Mako's attention from his brother to her. He didn't bother glaring like he would've a couple of years ago, instead returning to his silent vigil over his baby brother.

 _Yeah, baby brother who went to war_ , he thought bitterly. More than once the thought that he failed ran through his mind. Being so close to Bo yet being unable to do anything made his stomach ache. He promptly got up, murmuring something about getting water and food for when sleeping beauty woke up, and left.

Korra was glad. She felt awful thinking it, but it was true. Mako made the atmosphere so much more moody and stiffling. She knew he meant well, hell, she'd was doing the same thing at this very moment. She just felt like with the two of them it might've been too much for Bo.

She tucked her knees under her chin, wrapping her arms around herself. This was going to be long, she figured. Leaning tot he side she saw what Asami had been scribbling. She first noticed the drawings in the center. What looked like a box that opened up - or rather had flaps to close itself - drawn from various angles was labelled "FI soldier bed prototype Mk. I". In the margins were notes; most were unreadable scribbles, but Korra could read one or two of them. Some said things about the possibility of being grounded or needing something firm to remind them where they were; others talked about the cramped spaces and solitude. One in particular noted the darkness and questioned the possible effects it would have. What would she pay to have something to occupy her mind with. She envied Asami that way.

Finally, she stretched, and lied down. She could watch Bolin more closely now. She noticed all the worry-lines his face had never wore before. All the lines that would be gone when he woke up, trying to convince them everything is okay. All the lines like that, that were marring him from the inside.

"Don't take this the wrong way, Korra, but he might not want to talk when he wakes up," Asami said, still hunched over her schematics.

She knew, but that didn't meant it didn't leave a foul taste in her mouth or bruise her ego. Bolin didn't deserve this, however since it was happening, he deserved the best help. But if he didn't want it, Korra couldn't do a damn thing.

The floor creaked, and she noticed the tails of the blankets moving. Asami stopped drawing momentarily. Wiggling into a better position, Korra looked at Bolin. He opened his eyes blearily, lying on his stomach. Some lines eased off his face as he rubbed the sleep away with his hand.

"I feel like shit," was the first thing he said, yawning afterwards.

Asami and Korra chuckled. "You look like it," Korra replied.

"Gee thanks."

"How did you sleep?" Asami asked.

"I just feel like i BO'ed," he replied, his voice gravelly from sleep.

"BO'ed?" Korra echoed:

"Blacked out," Asami explained. At Korra's confused look, she elaborated. "What? Bolin already explained in one of his letters."

"Oh," she lamely replied.

After a while, she caught him staring. "Why're you on the floor?" He asked.

"Because you are. Why're you?" she replied.

He visibly hesitated. Biting his lip, he sighed. "I... I can't, I just can't sleep on a bed. It's too soft or something, I dunno," he said the last part quickly. "Just too used to sleeping on the ground I suppose."

 _Yeah right_ , he thought. It was just too _comfortable_ , he couldn't believe it, his mind just couldn't understand. It's like he needed a reality check or something and the floor just reminded him what he did every day. Maybe one day he'd get used to it.

The door slid open, capturing the attention of all three. Mako walked in with water and breakfast. Bolin crawled out from his spot, looking like he spent a night in a trench. He was given the food, which he passed in favor of the water. He downed three glasses before nibbling on some bread.

Mako was sitting next to him staring, analyzing, checking for wounds - Korra guessed he picked up on the same tells she did - wanting to say something.

"How are you?" he asked anxiously.

"Been better," Bolin joked. He rolled his shoulders. "A night on the floor ain't too good on the back!"

Mako's eyes darknes, he sent a small glare at Korra. She took it for what it was and offered a sympathetic look.

"I bet it isn't. Come on, eat a bit," Mako offered.

They started talking, just to fill the void. It got Bolin to eat a bit more, so no one complained. He still looked like shit.

She looked at him, under the evening light. The tiredness has seeped from his eyes and he could act a bit more like himself. They were sitting close, shoulder to shoulder, knee to knee. Hand in hand, she'd only know noticed how his' dwarfed hers'. They were both just as calloused, and they both sported scars on their knuckles due to recent events - her last great fight, his everyday job.

He looked at her, smiled a bit, enjoying the silence. He'd barely said a word - compared to his usual chatter - during the entire day. They'd been in the gardens the entire afternoon. Korra had made the two of them pick peaches, talking about how different it was to do so standing up. He'd chuckled.

Even just them things had been easier. Now Korra had to struggle just to think. What to say? Should she say anything?

Anxiously, her thumbs ran across the back of his hands. She felt him squeeze back gently. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all..?

"Bo," she whispered, catching his attention.

"Hm?"

"I need you to promise me something."

He looked at her, moonlight in their eyes. She found his tired green eyes mesmerizing; he thought her solemn cerulean pools were awe-inspiring. He blinked slowly and nodded for her to continue.

"I need you to come back... T-to me," she stuttered looking like she might be holding back tears. "Say you will."

"For you? I'll do anything."


	4. Day 4 - Double Take

div style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; line-height: 1.571428em; font-family: gotham, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; color: #383838;"em style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; line-height: 1.571428em;"Summary: Bolin and Korra take some time to notice how much they've grown./em/div  
div style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; line-height: 1.571428em; font-family: gotham, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; color: #383838;"em style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; line-height: 1.571428em;" /em/div  
div style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; line-height: 1.571428em; font-family: gotham, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; color: #383838;"hr style="line-height: 1.571428em;" / She didn't know when it happened, but she only noticed it now. There'd been a change, something was different in the way he stood, the way the light hit his eyes and how they lit up, the way he talked and gestured was... subdued? Restrained? No, those weren't the right words, she thought./div  
div style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; line-height: 1.571428em; font-family: gotham, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; color: #383838;" Her eyebrows knitted together in thought, her eyes roamed over him a second time, slower to make sure to notice every singular detail. Had she really missed how much he'd grown? He wasn't just tall, but he'd lost all traces of those babyish features he had had when they first met. How could she miss it? Could it be in the way his eyebrows weren't raised or comically knitted together? Or how his smile was smaller - em style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; line-height: 1.571428em;"so much smaller/em, she thought. Maybe it was noticeable because of the fact he hadn't shaved - and when had he started shaving anyways - in some time and his facial scruff enhanced his jawline? She decided it wasn't the way his hair was styled; clean and proper with a few strands coming out because of their recent line of work. His eyes, then? Likely, she thought. They didn't shine like they used to, at least not in the same kind of light. Before she could've likened his eyes to the exciting lights of the arena, or maybe the warm lights of the festival back home? Yes, she thinks that's how she would've described the light in his eyes before. Now the light was even warmer, they burned with a passion. It's a look she can recognize because she had one like it; but his was different. Not as excitable, not as... new to everything. /div  
div style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; line-height: 1.571428em; font-family: gotham, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; color: #383838;" She spent a special amount of time looking into his green pools of warmth, noticing the small flecks of dark green - some especially dark and rich - that contrast the bright peridot colour of his iris. She noticed how the way the flecks were spread out resembles a starry night sky, but more welcoming. Always welcoming, no matter what. em style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; line-height: 1.571428em;"That's it/em, she then realized. His eyes that used to remind her of nights spent away from home past curfew, and doing things like sparring or just exploring; those eyes now make her think of the fire in the center of her home back in the South - or maybe a campfire in a temporary settlement, she thinks - and something else she always felt around him. She thinks it's like the feeling she gets when she sees her parents after a long trip, or when Tenzin smiles whenever she drops by for supper and how Mako and Asami talk to her whenever they see each other. Yes, she decides, that's what his eyes remind her of, but different somehow. For some reason, it feels more special with him, like this feeling of home is known to her only, like he trusted her enough to let it shine through./div  
div style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; line-height: 1.571428em; font-family: gotham, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; color: #383838;" At the movement of his hands as he gestures to whomever he's talking to, her attention snaps from his eyes to his hands. They seem even bigger than they were before - she gets a glimpse from the past, of him picking up their medicine ball with only one hand. They look strong, and the skin isn't as pale as it once was. Now it's tanned from his years in the army, and she almost misses the calouses from their probending days under the new scars and fresh calouses from all that's been happening. His nails have dirt rooted in them and every crack in his skin is dark with earth or dust from the buildings. His hands flex with the excitment of his conversation and she sees just how much of their pudgyness they've lost. She can see the tendons on the back of his hand clearly as his fingers move, she can see the square shape of his palm, she notices the growth of some hair on his hands and wrists, going up with forearm./div  
div style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; line-height: 1.571428em; font-family: gotham, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; color: #383838;" She finally tunes in to what he's saying. He's talking with someone with a hardhat and a person from search and rescue. The three are arguing about some buildings that might become a problem. The simple fact that they'Re talking about this to him hits her hard. She remembers when even his smallest plans were mostly just to toss out ideas or to change the mood. It's odd to finally see him arguing and making his case. He's doing pretty good too, in her opinion. He still has that urge to keep the peace between all the parties. He's never liked conflict, she thinks, a trait that was once childish but that now shows that he puts doing the job first. She thinks it almost funny that in hiswant to avoid further conflict he'll even have the two people "get it all out". She doesn't know if it's ironic that he now acts like a parental figure when he grew up with only that?/div  
div style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; line-height: 1.571428em; font-family: gotham, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; color: #383838;" /div  
div style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; line-height: 1.571428em; font-family: gotham, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; color: #383838;" It's night, and the two are sitting on the porch of one of the buildings on Air Temple Island. The lights from the lanterns behind them bask them in bright orange, contrasting the cool blue of the night. She's leaning against a support beam, and he sitting at the edge of the porch, his head in his hands and his elbows on his knees./div  
div style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; line-height: 1.571428em; font-family: gotham, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; color: #383838;" "I'm worried," he finally says in a voice barely above a whisper./div  
div style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; line-height: 1.571428em; font-family: gotham, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; color: #383838;" She briefly glances at his eyes. They're half-lidded in a tired and worried way, the usual light in them is briefly snuffed out. Her own eyes widen in alarm./div  
div style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; line-height: 1.571428em; font-family: gotham, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; color: #383838;" "About?" She asked, leaning forward, putting her elbows on her knees./div  
div style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; line-height: 1.571428em; font-family: gotham, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; color: #383838;" "How this is all going to play out," he admitted. He sighed frustratedly; he couldn't be clear by saying em style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; line-height: 1.571428em;"this/em. He gestured to everything, letting his hand slap against his thigh as it fell. "Just... What em style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; line-height: 1.571428em;"am/em I doing? Fighting in an army; do people even want us there?"/div  
div style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; line-height: 1.571428em; font-family: gotham, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; color: #383838;" As his line of questioning continued, Korra saw for the first time, truly, how much Bolin had grown. He wasn't worried about em style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; line-height: 1.571428em;"him; /emhe was worried about the em style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; line-height: 1.571428em;"rest/em. Well, he'd grown in the sense that his vision wasn't as simple as it was before./div  
div style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; line-height: 1.571428em; font-family: gotham, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; color: #383838;" "I know we... I've had to do em style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; line-height: 1.571428em;"things/em out there, but it's for the best. I hope."/div  
div style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; line-height: 1.571428em; font-family: gotham, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; color: #383838;" She was happy to hear he could see that sacrifices had to be made, but did it mean that he wouldn't automatically see the good in people anymore? Would he become jaded like Mako had - granted it did come in handy at times, she firmly believed his endless optimism was ultimately more needed./div  
div style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; line-height: 1.571428em; font-family: gotham, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; color: #383838;" /div  
div style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; line-height: 1.571428em; font-family: gotham, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; color: #383838;" Bolin looked at her, em style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; line-height: 1.571428em;"really /emlooked at her. Like himself, Korra had changed. He did miss her wolftails - and the sleepovers where he'd been granted the chance to play with her hair and vice-versa - but he had to admit her new haircut matched her personality and "job". It still framed her face formidably; though he couldn't help but take note of how her cheekbones seemed more pronounced somehow. Her face wasn't as girlish anymore, but resembled the woman she was growing into. He loved it./div  
div style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; line-height: 1.571428em; font-family: gotham, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; color: #383838;" Her eyes, still as brilliant and bubbly as the day he'd met her, shone like the ocean in the midday sun. They had more depth than many people would ever realize; they held danger, adventure, romance, joy, sadness and wrath. Bolin had prided himself on being able to completely read her though her eyes - even when they were closed, if they were clenched or not - but now... The reading was a bit hazy, not mysterious, but she'd grown. More guarded or just more complex, he wasn't too sure, but her eyes were infinitely more interesting because of it./div  
div style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; line-height: 1.571428em; font-family: gotham, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; color: #383838;" The muscles uder her skin coiled and rolled as she moved her arms. She'd grown a bit more muscular, he thought. Of course he'd noticed her outfit change, as his eyes roamed over her, but his mind was elsewhere. How her skin was a shade or two lighter because of her previous activities both in the South Pole and the Earth Kingdom; how her fingers and hands were scarred like his. Bolin thought about the skin on her stomach and back, remembering the muscles there like he memorized maps./div  
div style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; line-height: 1.571428em; font-family: gotham, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; color: #383838;" /div  
div style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; line-height: 1.571428em; font-family: gotham, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; color: #383838;" When she looked at him after his questions, he expected to see righteous anger at someone, or brightly lit eyes wanting to encourage him. Instead he saw uncertainty, or rather, a pause for thought. It forced him to be reminded that Korra was as fiery as she'd been before. She'd learnt to stop and listen - em style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; line-height: 1.571428em;"be the leaf/em he recalls the airkids telling her often - and he didn't know when exactly it had happened./div  
div style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; line-height: 1.571428em; font-family: gotham, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; color: #383838;" She opened her mouth, but quickly clamped it shut before chuckling. She shrugged. "Bo," she started softly, shaking her head. "I might never say this again, but... I don't know. And I don't have all the answers."/div  
div style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; line-height: 1.571428em; font-family: gotham, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; color: #383838;" His face must've shown how he felt, because she took one of her hands out of his, to trace the side of his face./div  
div style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; line-height: 1.571428em; font-family: gotham, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; color: #383838;" "Here's what I em style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; line-height: 1.571428em;"do/em know however," she continued softly. "You have a heart of gold, and you want to do what's right." Her hand caressed him gently. "Follow your instincts, Bo, they've always led you to do the right thing."/div  
div style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; line-height: 1.571428em; font-family: gotham, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; color: #383838;" "Heh," he chuckled. "You sound like Tenzin."/div  
div style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; line-height: 1.571428em; font-family: gotham, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; color: #383838;" She punched his shoulder, hard enough for it to actually hurt. Okay so maybe her temper em style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; line-height: 1.571428em;"hadn't/em simmered down that much - he was glad, honestly, that fire was one of the thigns that attracted him - and she still shone with the same kind of light./div  
div style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; line-height: 1.571428em; font-family: gotham, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; color: #383838;" /div  
div style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; line-height: 1.571428em; font-family: gotham, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; color: #383838;" Maybe growing up didn't mean abandoning who they were./div 


	5. Day 5 - Awkward

**Use the link below to view the unrelated(?) comic I made for this prompt:**

art/Borra-Week-2015-Day-5-Awkward-554799967

 _Summary: Bolin and Korra have to deal with an... awkward... situation._

* * *

"You've been staring at him the entire afternoon," Mako chided her, taking the opportunity to hit her over the head with a mitt.

"He hasn't noticed," she replied, absent-mindedly swiping at her hair to fix it.

"At this rate, he will." He held up the pads for her to hit. Jab, cross, roundhouse, rince and repeat. Whenever her eyeswould stray from their target, Mako would wing his hand out, hitting Korra softly with the pad. After the fifth time he sighed in frustration.

"C'mon, at least _look_ like you're focusing Korra."

"Yessir," she replied, not looking at him.

Her eyes were glued to Bolin and Asami. Well, they were glued to _one_ of the two. They looked to be having fun; moving around, Asami holding the pads high - sometimes above her own head for Bolin to jump kick - and sometimes swiping at Bolin. Unsurprisingly, he slipped past the pads, his usual light-on-his-feet style lending itself perfectly to hand-to-hand combat. That was only a teeny-little part of why Korra was so interested in studying him.

As per instructed, he'd shown up in light training clothes. For Bolin that meant just a pair of shorts and his undershirt. The way he was going all out, sweating under the hot sun and positively _glowing_ \- and wearing clothes that hugged his skin - justified Korra's near-obsession. That's what she was telling herself at least.

Right now, the two had switched it up and Bolin had to take hits - "You serious?!" "It's just for the drill, Bo!" - right in the stomach. Some drill to harden the muscle and get used to being hit, she recalled from her previous training with Asami. Bolin was holding his hands at his temples, every muscle in his body taught to keep his core tight. Korra noticed the sweat rolling down his brow and arms, the sweat stains on his undershrit where it was stuck to his skin. Like his abs that were being pounded-on by Asami at the moment.

"Ow! Alright, alright!" Bolin hissed, taking a few steps back. He was rubbing his now sore stomach. He was chuckling though. "Remind me never to make you mad," he joked, high-fiving Asami.

Just as Bolin was about to look their way - and notice her openly staring - Mako decided it was time to remind her he was there. By hitting her over the head, again, with the pad. She'd have to both thank him and punch him later, she noted to herself.

"C'mon Korra, you're just gonna stand there and take it?" Bolin teased her.

"He's right, that doesn't sound like you," Asami joked, with a glint in her eye.

 _Oh yeah?_ She thought, _look at THIS Bo!_ As soon as Mako had the pads up she launched her attack, hitting the pads with zeal, feeling great satisfaction hearing Mako's little hisses of pain. She openly laughed when he toppled over after the fifth repetition of the little combo.

"You totally cheated," he grunted from the ground.

"Did not! Since when is being a damn good kicker against any kind of rule?" She replied, smirking. She took his hand to help him up.

"You used airbending, Korra," Asami chided, holding back laughter. Bolin didn't bother. Neither did Korra. "Maybe my _partner_ can _help_ show you how it's done, hm?"

Korra stopped laughing. She shot Asami a glare, just subtle enough for it to go unoticed by the earthbender. She was glad Bo was feeling better - or seeming to, but she trusted her ability to sniff it out if he was lying - but she knew if there was one thing he didn't need, it was an inflated ego. That was her job.

Just as she was about to protest, Asami tossed Korra her pads.

"Hey! At least let me protest!" she whined; half-heartedly, putting the pads on anyway.

"Alright then," Asami said, as if Korra hadn't talked at all. "Booin when you're ready. Go for the combination we did earlier."

He nodded, his goofy grin on his face. Stepping forward, he raked a hand through his sweaty hair, making it a nice mess. Bolin got into his stance and nodded at Korra. She nodded back and they started.

Jab, cross, kick, pause. Jab, cross, kick, pause. Jab, cross, kick, pause. Rinse and repeat. After a moment, even though her arms and shoulders were starting to ache, she zoned out a bit, leaving things on auto-pilot. Which was a very bad idea because she started staring. Well, in her defence, it wasn't _really_ staring because she was also thinking. She was well and truly impressed if he'd moved on so quick from his episode the other day. Or maybe it became routine for him and it didn't affect him anymore? She shuddered at the thought. Which was the exact moment her pad holding went to hell and Bolin's jab to her cheek.

"Ah! Oh, shit," he swore - which in itself was so funny to her she forgot the pang of pain - and his hands made useless grabbing motions. The ones when you're not too sure whether to grab or not.

She tossed the pads, rubbing her cheek, but when she noticed his exoression she couldn't help but laugh. He looked like he had to kick a puppy. "Relax Bo, accidents happen. Besides, you don't think your ouny jab could really hurt me anyway, do you?"

He shook his head, his expression turning to one of relief. "I was afraid you might kick me."

Asami laughed. "Well you wouldn't have to worry if Korra was paying attention to her pad holding instead of oggling you!"

Bolin's eyes looked like dinner plates. "I-I was not oggling!" Korra sputtered angrily, a furious blush making its way across her face. And to her ears. And neck. "I was just... Thinking!"

"About?" Mako asked skeptically, crossing his arms. Oh she was going to kick that smirk off his face. Or burn it off, she heard that worked wonders.

She stuttered, trying to find words. She saw Bolin's face and didn't know quite what to feel. Was that a smile on his face? Was he laughing at her? The way his eyes lit up, she thought, he must be.

"Don't you laugh!" she cried out, stomping over to him. His face fell a bit. "You were distracting me! It'a not my fault I just happened to be looking your way when I was thinking! Besides, the pads were all sweaty and Asami didn't give me the chance to-"

"I like the way you blush," he replied, a small smile on his face. Okay, now he was definitely holding back laughter. That weasel.

She clamped her mouth shut, her finger in midair, about to poke him as she made her points. She cleared her throught before stuttering a few intelligible syllables. Eventually she growled, put her still reddening face in her hands and stalked off. She didn't, however, miss the chance to airbend Mako into the nearest pool by way of kicking.


	6. Day 6 - Bend

Summary: A friendly competition becomes a bit more

Tac. Some paper rustling. Tac. A grunt. Some fumbling. Tac. A growl, but she's smiling. Paper rustling. Air whistling. Thwack!  
"Ow! The hell?!" Bolin asked from his hammock. He was rubbing his head. "We said NO airbending, Cheater McCheaterson!"  
"Wha- Me, cheat?" She replied, putting her hand to her chest and looking all innocent. If she was, he was the King of the Earth Kingdom. "Never!"  
"Yeah, I bet," he replied, a snarky smile on his face. He'd turn to look at her lazily, one hand and one leg hanging out the sides of the hammock.  
He looked so relaxed.  
"Well even if I HAD used airbending," she continued, with her innoncent-puppy look still on her face. "What're you gonna do about it?" she asked, her turning mischevious, her pout into a smirk, an exciting glint in her eyes.  
Bolin scoffed, shaking his head. He knew exactly what this was, and he liked the fact she bothered to do it. It was an invitation; to play... He wasn't in too much of a playful mood though, so he paused. Maybe a little too long, his eyes instantly picked up on the minute details: her shoulders slumping imperceptibly to anyone but close friends or family; the loss of the dimple in her right cheek as her smirk lessened; the crease inbetween her eyebrows decreasing a little. The glint in her eyes dying out urge dhim to act.  
"Well," he started, tapping his foot on the ground. He earthbent a small pillar of earth under her folded legs, forcing her to roll onto her back. He jumped out of the hammock, and marched to stand over her. "It seems I'm going to have to punish you, Avatar," her title rolled off his tongue huskily.  
She laughed - not chuckled, outright laughed - at him. She grabbed his ankles and after swinging her legs onto him, got him in a leg lock. "Don't bite off more than you can chew, Bo!" She joked. Korra tightened her grip, earning a grunt-gasp of pain, before loosening it a bit. She loved hearing those kinds of sounds.  
She seemed to have loosened her grip too much however, as he threw his body at an angle, wrangling his leg free - with perfect execution, she noted, Kuvira wanted her soldier to be able to fight with and sithout bending. He quickly turned to face her. The grabbed onto the other's hands, trying to force them into giving up.  
The two were pushing against each other with their hands, grasping tightly - being careful to not use their nails - and sometimes squeezing hard. They were both smirkingz Pushing, pulling and tugging in all directions, the two were barely able to stay on their knees. She pushed hard, trying to get him on his back, but he pulled to the side, deflecting her force.  
They were almost nose-to-nose now, he had a pained smirk on his face, sweat rolling down his brow.  
"Y-You can give up now," he grunted.  
She also had a smirk on her face, her tongue pointing out of her lips. Her eyebrows were knitted together, with fire in her eyes. She didn't reply verbally, but squeezed really hard. He gasped, surprised and a mix of something else she couldn't place. Oh yes, she wanted to hear more of that.  
He flexed his wrist, making her's bend and taking away some of her strength. And he wasn't letting her get the upper hand again. No matter, she had an idea. She pressed her nose to his, her smirk widening.  
"What about you, Bo, ready to admit defeat?" she asked, her voice husky due to the effort.  
The look he gave her was answer enough. She'd have to use her secret weapon. Her smirk widened crazily, as she rested her corehead against his. Bolin was still focused on their game, how adorable. Her smirk lessened to a pout as she pressed her lips to his. It was really only just a peck. Really. She licked his lower lip and bit it gently as she separated.  
That's when she tried to push again. But Bolin wouldn't hear word of it. It looked like he'd been prepared - at least a little - and he was smiling goofily, but not giving an inch. His cheeks were awfully red too; a nice contrast to his usual complexion. She couldn't but noticed the spread of the blush - she caused - to his ears and all the way down his neck, almost to his collarbones. Her surprised pour turned into a proud smirk - dimple and all - that showed off her teeth.  
He briefly wondered how they would feel on his skin. Would they leave a hot trail? Or would they mkae his skin tingle with goosebumps? Would she leave marks?  
He was growing more desperate every second their struggle went on. He was also struggling to keep pushing against her.  
Feeling smart, he decided to put to use some of the waterbending principles he started learning. He pulled himself against her, making sure to pull their hands apart just enough for her to still have a grip - wouldn't be fun otherwise, right?  
He leaned down, kissing her neck tenderly once, twice, thrice. Each time he was rewarded by shaky gasps. He went up her slender neck, kissing her jack and moving onto her ear. She could play that game? So could he.  
"I'm not the one's that'll be doing the biting," he replied suggestively, licking her ear. He shivered when she moaned quietly.  
"That a challenge?" she breathed against his cheek, her hands trembling slightly from the tension. She pulled their hands closer, renewing their games. She descended onto the crook of his neck, first nipping at the skin. Then, she bit, earning a pleasured grunt.  
"Y-Yeah," he gasped out. "It is..."  
He should really learn to shut up in times like this. She might take his quivering voice as a sign of weakness, he thought. Or maybe talking was exactly what he needed to do.  
"K-Korra," he called out lightly, biting his lip as she nipped at his skin. Spirits, even the way she was digging her nails in his hands was burning like ecstasy in his blood.  
She paused her biting, her hair partially covering her face. Her half-lidded eye looked up at him, waiting.  
"Waddya say..." he started, whispering in her ear. "We take it to my-"  
She bit him -with a smirk - making cry out in pleasure. "-O-Our, r-room?"


	7. Day 7 - Puppy Love

Summary: it's last day Bolin's on leave, and to be honest, he doesn't want to go

"You're leaving tonight?" she asked, muffled by his chest.  
He nodded. "Hmm. I am."  
"Stay with us," she whispered, lifting her head to look at him.  
He thought about it. He really did. Searching her eyes - wondrous cerulean, cyan and turquoise pools of light - he saw her, the true her. The one she only let shine on those late night conversations or in the wee hours of the morning, when lies just don't seem to exist. She was tired, she just wanted one, one minute of peace and quiet. He bit his lip, his features softening. He sighed. "Maybe," he replied quietly, but seriously. "Now hush, we're cuddling."  
She chuckled, but snuggled into him nonetheless. It was still early morning, the sun was up, but most of the island was still asleep. The sliders weren't closed all the way, letting in some rays of sunlight, warming them comfortably. He let his head sink into the soft feathery pillow, hugging Korra close, enjoying the warmth of both her and the comforter covering them. Yesterday was the first night he noticed how soft and inviting the mattress was.  
He turned to kiss the top of her head, her scent filling his senses. Images of the oceanside filled his mind; her afterglow reminding him of their various trips and adventures throughout the years. He closed his eyes, trying to grasp the memories more firmly, to keep them vivid and to nover forget them. He couldn't wait for they day they'd all go on another adventure together once again.  
The two stayed there, entertwined together, skin on skin. She had him in her warmth, and he kept her cool. She wanted to play - and usually so did he - but now he wanted to rest. She fell asleep first, and held onto him tighter, as if afraid he was just a dream, disappearing within the wake of the morning. He put his arms around her, keeping her even closer. He could feel her hot breath on his skin, their breathing in sync.  
Briefly he remembers a fairytale about earthbenders finding their soulmates by listening to their heartbeat. He longed to be in one of those stories Mako would tell him when they were younger. Everything seemed so much easier; good or bad, one or two, a or b. No grey areas, no need to second guess every choice, and no need for the hero to make such difficult decisions.  
Korra sighed in her sleep, changing her position. He moved with her, keeping her comfort in mind. He loved the way her hair fell around her face, framing it perfectly, like something out of the Spirit World. He couldn't keep the yawn trying to escape his mouth. He pulled her close, making her grumble half-asleep slurs, and rested his head on hers. A beautiful, dreamful and calm sleep claimed him.

People murmuring, whispering things. Some rustling, the floor creaking. Some light clanking and a muffled swear. A moment of silence, then a creak and a breeze of fresh air.  
He frowns, not understanding where all this sudden noise is coming from. Silence, all at once the noise is gone, and he fades back into his restful state, feeling her warmth beside him. Something whirring, a muttered conversation. A click and a bright flash. His eyes blink.  
He tries to sit up, to look around - his movements wake Korra who rolls into his still warm spot and promptly falls back asleep - and sees the blurry shape of his brother and Asami. They're both smiling, which is extremely unnverving because Mako doesn't smile in the morning. He notices the open window, with the sliders drawn back to allow for more light. There's a camera in Asami's hands, and she looks giddy.  
He can't keep the small smile forming on his lips. "I've been meaning to replace her old photos," he whispers to them. "Who's idea was this?"  
Mako shrugs, "I was supposed to wake you, but Asami thought you guys were too cute - her words - and insisted on getting a picture."  
She nods. "It's true. The picture'll take a week or two to develop," she tells him.  
His face falls. "I'm leaving tonight," he replies sadly.  
They both lose their smiles. Mako's the first to speak. "Well we can always send it to you by mail!"  
"Yeah, that's true!"  
"Thanks guys," and he means it. It kind of ticks him off to be away from his family for so long - the worst part is coming back and having accomplished so little.  
"Spirits, shut up," Korra groaned, getting up as well. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She was still covered, by the comforter, and Bolin. "What're you two doing here?" she asked suspiciously, eyeing the camera.  
"Souvenir," Asami replied. "We thought Bo might want some from his trip here."  
Korra smiled, but like the others' it was more sad than it ought to have been. After a moment of silence, Bolin and Korra threw their pillows at the two invaders, laughing, and telling them to get out. After a small exchange, ethey relented and left the lovebirds.

They enjoyed a nice breakfast, stealing from the other's plate - or trading rather - earning a chuckle from even Tenzin. Ikki couldn't stop gawking, and asking really awkward questions, the worst being if they did it last night. Korra and Pema laughed, Bolin choked, and Tenzin got redder than his robes. It was like Bolin had said a couple of years ago; it's like having another family with the overworked mom, the weird uncle, the rowdy kids and the angry dad, and all the fun.  
She grabbed Asami's camera and stood, taking a picture of their little chaos, making sure to get herself in the frame. It'd be a perfect memory, she thought, putting the camera down. Asami smiled at her.

It was night. Or evening, rather. The sun was setting, painting the sky with fiery oranges, vivid reds and sad blues. Like her eyes. He hated making her feel any kind of bad and if he could visibly see it in her eyes. Spirits he felt like absolute trash. He got close, taking a few steps away from the train.  
"We'll stay in touch," he told her. "We can also use radios."  
It didn't change her crestfallen expression. "Yeah," she replied dejectedly. "I suppose."  
He hugged her. She tightened her embrace almost painfully. She dug her fingers in the fabric of his shirt. He'd like to say she was overreacting a bit, but he was doing the same - and he'd done it with Mako too.  
"You better not meet anyone over there," she growled, only half-joking.  
"Aw, you're jealous," he replied, smiling. How cute!  
"I just like to keep what's mine. I hate that you're leaving, I barely got to see you in your uniform or to do anything with you."  
"Well..." He paused. "Maybe I can stay."  
"Really?" Her grip tightened.  
"Someone's got to develop those photos!"


End file.
